The Princelings of the East

by Jemima Pett

  Chapter 6: The Energy Hunter

  In which Fred meets the Energy Hunter and has to decide who to trust

  Fred opened one eye and saw that a castle bathed in morning light was passing by the window as he was jolted gently along in the carriage. He opened the other and saw his companion doing a crossword puzzle in the opposite corner.

  “Good morning!” said Baden. “When you’re ready I’ll unpack the breakfast basket that I brought with us in case of need.”

  Fred blinked and stretched. “Where are we? Is that Castle Buckmore? I thought that was where we were going?” he added with a momentary touch of panic as his confusion of last night returned.

  “No, that is Castle Powell, my ancestral home,” replied Baden, taking the lid off a basket he had pulled from under his seat. “The Buckmore-Powell tunnel comes out of the hill that leads down to Powell, but we go over the next set of hills and across the river on the regular road to get to Buckmore.”

  Relieved, Fred sat back and then leant forward to help Baden extract some fresh salad and dried fruit bars from the basket. Baden then took out a flask of water and two cups. Fred helped him munch his way through the supplies, enjoying the experience of a picnic with a passing view.

  “If that’s your ancestral home,” commented Fred through mouthfuls, “why are you Steward at Buckmore?”

  “It’s a long story,” Baden replied, “In short; I found it expedient to leave in order not to get drawn into family matters, like murder. Lupin needed a Steward, I got the job.”

  “Are you still a princeling though? Prince Lupin said ‘former Princeling’.”

  “Well spotted. No, I gave up my claim, but with some people it’s worthwhile them knowing you’re from a noble line. I expect he wanted to make sure you took me seriously, as we don’t know you yet.”

  They chatted about kings and castles, and Baden explained how the kings and lords met at the Kings’ Council a number of times a year to keep the peace. He told stories about individuals without naming names as the road twisted and turned through the hills. After an hour or so, it emerged from gently wooded slopes down to a wide river. They rattled across a long wooden bridge and up a slight slope.

  “And there is Castle Buckmore,” said Baden, leaning out of the window and pointing as they rounded a rock at the top of a small hill.

  Not far away, on a low slab of rock with steep crags at one end, was a handsome residence. It appeared to have many trees inside courtyards protected by white walls with red-tiled roofs. Towers dotted the corners of various sections, and some looked like small bell-towers. Fred thought it looked charming, and although not particularly impressive, it had the air of understated grandeur that comes from a family that has no need to show off at all.

  The carriage rattled through an arched gate at the lowest end of the rock, and along a dimly lit tunnel, where it had to do a strange manoeuvre of stopping as the tunnel turned, and then reversing a short way up the next stretch to another turn, where it could once again go forward up into the light.

  “A simple but effective way of protecting the castle from invaders,” explained Baden. “There is a shorter way in at the other end but it can give unwanted visitors a nasty taste of boiling oil as it is pretty much a vertical ascent!”

  Fred was very glad he was not an unwanted visitor as they got out of the carriage in a sunlit plaza. It had a large stretch of grass and a few apple trees in the centre, bordered by a broad pavement of stone flags in front of market stalls and shops set into arches in the wall behind. Flags and drapery fluttering in the mild, sweet scented breeze. He breathed appreciatively as his feet regained solid ground and he felt the sun on his back for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Then he reminded himself not to relax too much as he was on a mission and hadn’t decided who he could trust yet.

  Baden saw to the organisation of the carriage and unloading of packages from the top of their compartment. Fred watched, wondering how someone learned to be a steward.

  “Right, then, Fred,” he said, walking across to the far corner of the plaza, “My orders were to take you to see Lady Nimrod, and she’s expecting you.”

  Fred followed his companion past a fountain and up a shallow stone staircase at the side of the plaza. That led into a corridor that opened on to an adjacent courtyard. They went along that, through another archway into another similar corridor, then up more stairs, until Fred completely lost count of how many corridors and how many stairs they had gone up. Castle Buckmore was much more extensive than Castle Marsh, or was it mainly that he knew his way there? He couldn’t decide. One thing he noticed as they walked the corridors was that there didn’t seem to be a fixed ground point for the gardens in the centres of the courtyards. They never went down any steps, but one courtyard might be way below their walkway, and another only just the other side of the wall. That was the case as Baden halted at another arch. A right-angled turn would take them along the second side of a square at their own level, a square filled with scented flowers and herbs. There were rich drapes at the arches of the room that overlooked the garden.

  “Wait here!” Baden said, and he went through the arch leaving Fred breathing the scent of the herbs, identifying in turn lavender, mint, thyme, oregano, pennyroyal, gillyflower, and some he didn’t recognise but smelled really good.

  A rustle at the door and a sweet, musky scent overlain with that of flowers he couldn’t name brought him back to the immediate task, and a lady dressed in a white taffeta robe, again with the dark points that Prince Lupin had, came to the doorway and greeted him, holding out her hand.

  “Welcome, young Fred, to Castle Buckmore. It has been years since there was contact between our families but I am most pleased to see you here, even though the circumstances are dark.”

  Fred bowed low, again holding his pose, making his secret sign and then kissing her outstretched hand.

  “I thank you for your greeting, most gracious lady,” he said, straightening up, and he followed her into the apartment beyond. It was one of the most beautifully decorated he had seen, with sheer drapes across the far windows letting in the light and billowing gently in the breeze. They took their seats on a shady terrace overlooking the garden and drinks arrived in plain but delicate china cups. This lady had style.

  At first, Lady Nimrod asked Fred about recent events at Castle Marsh. He told her that King Cole was well, as was Prince Vladimir, but that some of his cousins had left to go into exile, but Prince Ludo was around, when he wasn’t off sailing his boats. She showed considerable knowledge of his family history, including relatives he had never met, and discussed the ability of their land holding to supply food for all the inhabitants. She had obviously been there at some time although she was not familiar with the new wing that Uncle Vlad had built. Eventually he brought the conversation around to the Energy Drain, and told her about recent events.

  “So, although you were aware of a problem last year that has been continuing in an irritating manner,” she summarised, “it was not until the disaster of the King’s birthday party that you realised the problem was worse than you thought?” Fred nodded in agreement. “This pronouncement by Prince Vladimir, do you think there was any real belief in the Energy eaters?”

  Fred shook his head, no.

  “Tell me, young Fred,” she continued after a pause while they drained their cups, “Is strawberry juice the favoured drink at Castle Marsh?”

  Fred thought a bit, with a puzzled look that was more to do with the switch of subject than the actual answer. “Well, yes, Lady Nimrod,” he replied, “Strawberry juice has always been the traditional drink, in all its variations, partly due to the excellence of our strawberries.”

  “But you do not have an export trade in either juice or strawberries, do you?” she asked.

  “Is export selling to other people outside the Castle?” Fred had heard the term but wanted to make sure he didn’t make a complete fool of himself.
The lady nodded, and he felt encouraged, rather than stupid. “No we only grow the right amount to support the Castle and a little in store for emergencies. As I said, we use our land for many crops; we have to be very careful with good fertile land. In fact my studies have been useful in ensuring we maintain the right balance between keeping the ground healthy and taking goodness out through crops.”

  “Very wise to work for sufficiency rather than profit,” said Lady Nimrod, although Fred wasn’t entirely sure what this meant, his line being natural philosophy rather than economics.

  “So you do not bring in other types of drinks from other Castles even for celebrations?”

  “I don’t think so,” Fred replied. “The first time I saw a Vex bottle was when Victor, the barkeeper at the inn of the Seventh Happiness, was drinking it.”

  “And you were not familiar with Wozna at all until then,” confirmed Nimrod. Fred nodded. “Well, I wonder why you have experienced the Energy Drain then, although it does not seem as bad as most other places. Maybe it is spreading,” she finished thoughtfully.

  “How long has it been in other places and do you think there is a connection with Vex and Wozna? Or any other drinks?” he added.

  “Let me tell you what I know, then what I surmise, and maybe we can philosophise over the true meaning.”

  The mid-day meal arrived, and Nimrod encouraged Fred to tuck in while he listened as she explained how it started.

  “The first inklings of an energy drain were experienced about eight years ago. The first occurrences were mysterious power failures at the Inn of the Seventh Happiness, then these spread to other inns, and then to Castles between them. Vexstein was affected quite early, as we were. I discovered though, that we were not the first. Sowerby, and its surrounding area, was almost certainly the first Castle affected. This seemed strange to me. Sowerby is so far away from anywhere else. Although whether the Inn or the Castle was worst affected was never clear. I went there one summer and found it to be a nice place, full of friendly people, but then as Midsummer Day drew near they started behaving oddly, and the innkeeper suggested that it would be best for me to leave. ‘Strange things happen here at Midsummer,’ he said, and I must admit, there have always been rumours of hauntings and goodness knows what up there. I left, anyway. I had gathered the data I needed.

  “Although, as I said, it arrived at Buckmore relatively early, it did not cause real problems until four years ago. Every time we had a major event with a great many people visiting, the power would give out just at the most inconvenient moment.”

  Fred moved uncomfortably in his seat, remembering the King’s Birthday Gathering.

  “The same for Castle in the Marsh was it not?” she asked, and he nodded. “When I visited Cole, he said he did not have much of a problem. When I described some of our incidents, though, he allowed there had been more difficulty than he had wanted to say to an outsider. So proud - and rightly so, to manage on your own so well. But what I did not understand, what I still do not understand, is why Marsh should be affected at all since it seems to be the only Castle in the lands that does not import Wozna - or Vex. Cole said one of his princelings was doing great things in designing new energy engines to overcome the problem, would that be your brother?”

  Fred nodded, pleased both that his grandfather had recognised George’s work and had praised it to Lady Nimrod.

  “So I added that snippet to my store of information, and came home to advise that we become more self-sufficient ourselves. However, we had already increased our power supply from our own water system which comes through the high hills beyond, and that had contained the problem for only two more years. I knew we were barely keeping ahead of the demands on the system, so last year I set out in search of alternative solutions, much as you have now. And in much the same way, I found that my focus shifted to examining the causes of the Drain, not just finding stop-gap solutions.”

  Fred nodded; it was not enough to keeping solving problems that occurred, one had to think through the problem, find the causes and eliminate them. George had taught him that as a fundamental principle of good engineering. George always complained that the problem with most people is that they would rather add something to keep solving a problem than go back and prevent it in the first place. The concept particularly appealed to Fred, who would much rather spend time thinking of Why? than of How? which was more George’s line.

  Lady Nimrod went on to list the coincidences that she had found as she travelled from Castle to Castle. Nearly all the inns had started to import either Vex or Wozna or both about a year before the Drain started in their area. Castles had taken them on at different times but their energy sources were more diverse and the Drain became a problem for some sooner than for others. Peaks in the Drain seemed to occur whenever they were running short of supplies, and it was not always the same season in each area - some had their peak just before the Solstice festivities, others at seemingly random times throughout the year.

  “Then one day I discussed it with a very large black and white gentleman who was interested in the same question, or at least so it seemed as we conversed over dinner at the Inn of the River Cottage.” Fred looked up at her questioningly and she nodded, “Yes, Hugo.” she said.

  “Let me tell you of that evening and you can give me your opinion, since you have met him, but as a complete stranger, as you might say, whereas the rest of us have slightly more knowledge of his history. Slightly,” she repeated, as if knowing him longer did not give you more information about him.

  She described how she had arrived one evening at the Inn on her way back from White Horse to Buckmore, intending to stay the night. Normally she would take her meal privately, but this inn was attractively set by the waterside, it was a pleasant summer evening and there were few guests about. Moreover, the innkeeper had brought a message from Hugo to invite her to dine with him, since he had seen her carriage when he himself had arrived. They had talked about general things, the food, the wine, and the state of the grapes at Dimerie, his new business interest as a strawberry purchaser, the usual chitchat. She could not remember whether he had asked what she was doing travelling or whether she had volunteered that she was investigating the Energy Drain, but he had represented that he was also investigating it, and asked her what she had learnt.

  “I told him of my information about the spread of the Drain and the impact it was having, and tried to get him to tell me more of what he thought of it, especially his experiences of it on his travels. At that stage, I had no concerns about sharing my information with him: he was well-travelled, he had been to most of these places, and I expected that he had experienced the impact of the Drain himself. Much to my surprise, he had not, or else he maintained he had not experienced it. Now your grandfather had taken this line at first, Fred, but had quickly realised there was no shame attached to the phenomenon. Hugo seemed genuinely to have not experienced it. He then questioned me quite closely about my information, including how the Drain was coincident with the parties, gatherings or the need for a restock of supplies. He became quite defensive when I suggested there was a strange relationship between them. He practically accused me of inventing stories to discredit his business, implying that Buckmore’s connection with Vex had coloured my judgement.

  “And since that occasion he has hardly been seen in the region, unless it is to persuade another Castle to part with its strawberry harvest. He used to be around often when he first introduced Wozna to us. Now he only comes every six months or less, and a major Drain usually precedes his visits. Is it just coincidence? So when considering the problem of the Energy Drain, I have also been wondering what his role in it is.”

  She paused and looked at him closely.

  “That is why I gave instruction that you should not travel with him, or even stay the night with him, just in case,” she said.

  Fred considered that. He had not felt any threat from Hugo, on the contr
ary, he had found him a most helpful and generous guide. If he was not what he seemed, was it possible that Lady Nimrod and Prince Lupin were also not what they seemed? What did she mean by ‘Buckmore’s connection with Vex’?

  “The biggest coincidences that we need to consider, Fred, are why Hugo is always around just after a major Energy Drain, and why localised Drains always seem to occur just before new stocks of Wozna are delivered.”

  Fred started to Think, but was interrupted by one more puzzle to Think about.

  “And what are we going to do,” posed Lady Nimrod, “when he arrives around sundown, which is just under six hours away.”